Myrocia's Tale
by Vacancy
Summary: Myrocia is vexed by the Seelie Queens behavior. What Quest is she being sent on that requires no coin for the return trip?
1. Chapter 1

The crisp smell of an orchard in bloom wafted lazily in the air, ridden by nixies near my fingers length. Children, giddy with the prospect og a new home, played with renewed fervor, their laughter mixing with the clear sounds of glass wind chimes and the words of other fey. The human children, released for the moment from the charms that dulled their sense huddled in the shade, crying and talking in soft, panicked voices. I felt no pity for them, not now. My lady was calling me.

She was in the shade of a large oak tree, laying dramatically on a bed of crisp fall leaves. A silver haired man gazed dreamily at her, she didn't seem to notice him at all. A woman with ivy in her hair and cracked, brown skin played a lute next to the Lady, voice raw and unpleasant. Her fingers kept lingering on the wood, holding up the song, but a knight standing behind her inched his sword closer with each mistake. But her watery green eyes held the joy of a woman on her wedding day, flicking from the queen to the lute.

"That is quite enough," the Queen said softly, and she stopped mid-note, looking eagerly to the Lady. "You shall play that lute every day until I deem it worthy of my ear, and you may not lay a finger on wood."

"B-b-but My Lady w-w-without me my trees will d-die," the diluted green of her eyes sought Silaria's clear ones, and she only gave a smile of amusement.

I gave a sharp intake of breath. What was this, the lady being anything but kind and loving to her people? Silarial moved a fraction of an inch on her leaf bed, eyes flicking upwards to where I stood.

"Now, my good tree spirit, you know what the penalties can be for betraying your Queen. Know where your alliances lie, my good lady," Silarial smiled kindly as the tree spirit poured out countless thanks and turned to leave, her fingers brushing over the bark of a tree. She heaved a shuddering sigh as her skin smoothed over and the ivy in her hair neatened.

"Roiben," she addressed the silver haired man; stroking his hair. "Leave me for now, I must talk to Myrocia." He looked up at her, halfway between awed and disappointed.

"Yes, My lady." He stood up to go, almost passing through the curtain of leaves before the Seelie queen called from behind him.

"I await your declaration. It will b within the week, will it not?"

"If not sooner," Roibens dreamy voice said, not even turning. The Seelie Queen smiled, murmuring to herself,

"The sooner the better." She turned to face me, her green eyes glinting in the sun. "I apologize if I seemed harsh with the tree spirit. But I cannot let mercy break me. You understand, of course?"

"Yes, My Lady," I said, awed. I loved my Lady more and more each day. What a shining person, the most lovely merciful fey, surely, to ever see the day.

"Good. But I have brought you here for a reason. I understand you have trained with your brother, Talathain?"

"Yes," I said, less at ease than before.

"Excellent. How expert would you say your skill was?

"Lady, no where near expert. I can hold a sword and fight moderately well, but I—"

"Modesty has no place here, Myrocia. Could you hold off twenty men?"  
"Untrained in the art of the sword I could kill thirty in the space of a quarter hour." I tried not to sound vain as I said the prideful words.

"Excellent," the word hissed out of her mouth like a deflating balloon. "You may leave."

I flinched at the blunt dismissal, so unlike her trademark, but I turned to go anyway when I heard another voice.

"Fetch Talathain to come after you," she said. I raised my blue eyes to meet her pink ones and curtsied politely.

"Yes Lady Dulcamara."


	2. Chapter 2

Everybody knew the lady Dulcamara. Her tendency for a sharp tongue and quick hands to a sword hilt kept fey wondering why she was so high in Silarials favor. She was like a ghost for the lady, always hovering just out of sight, right behind her, whispering words in her ear. And strangely enough, always in times of strife inflicted by the Night court, she vanished like mist in the sun. Coward they whispered behind hands they thought the lady could not hack off. The hngry glint in her pale pink eyes told me that move was not far off, one simple betrayal.

Her eyes bored into mine for that one second as I boldly looked at her, and she gave a little half-smile, toying the the knife in her hand. She broke the gaze as she sliced open her index finger, blood dripping grotesquely on the lovely grass.

"Go fetch Talathain now, and if you're good, well. . . ." she smiled in a way that was more than a bit venomous. "Maybe he'll take you along."

"The secrets of knights are not for the Lady's handmaidens to know," I said, my tone ice, aware I was not walking on eggshells, but on knife tips, barefooted. Her smile widened.

"Too true my darling," she said with a small cackle. "You'll soon know more than he—nor I" anger flashed in her pale eyes. "can comprehend." The she was relaxed again, but more threatening now, when she was tense you could tell the cobra was about to strike. "Now run along before you know death better than me."

I turned, quite aware she was playing cat and mouse with me, I could feel her triumphant smile through the leaves as I searched for my brother. He was lying on the soft grass next to Roiben, whose much more composed sister glamored toadstools into many lovely things. Talathain rolled a bunch of daisies between his coarse fingers, flowers growing more and more wilted. Roiben mouthed something over and over, something like _Do it_ and Talathain finally stood up and approached Roiben's sister, clearing his throat and drawing her gray-eyed attention.

"You look lovely today, Ethine," he stumbled through the simple sentence, Roiben watching eagerly from the safety of the grass.

"Thank you, Talathain," Ethine said, her voice smooth. Talathain shoved the daisies into her hands and gave a courtly bow, Ethine started to stutter a response, but he turned and walked away nonchalantly, but we could see the growing red in his face. I caught his arm.

"The Queen requests your presence," I said smoothly, he stared at me in disbeleif. "Go!" I snapped impatiently, he nodded and puffed out his chest, swaggering over the the oak tree, Ethine staring openly at the back of him.

"Ethine!" Roiben said, unable to contain himself. Her head swiveled to him and her eyes narrowed.

"This is not funny one bit, Roiben! I trusted you with the secret of how I felt! My own brother told—!"

She broke off when she realized he was smiling smugly at her, a far shot of the apologetic brother she'd expected.

"I never told him a word, Ethine," he smiled. She stared at him dumbly.

"But he would never—"

"Just think! Me and Sila—." his voice dwindled in his throat as he said her name, but picked up strength as he finished. "And you and Talathain! How happy we shall be!"

"Roiben, you are an optimistic, romantic fool but I love you." Ethine burbled, hugging him.

I forced a smile onto my lips as I stepped away from the two idiots in love; something I'd neither had nor sought to own.


	3. Chapter 3

**I know I'm REALLY OOC with all of the characters, but this is supposed to be when they are very young, so thats why I made them so frivolous. Sorry if you still don't like it!**

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Talathains wine-colored hair swung around his face as he walked leisurely back to where we three lay in the grass, Roiben, Ethine and I. Fools and dreamers we were, remarking on the shapes of the clouds, how uneasy Dulcamara seemed around the Queen recently, how the flowers always wilted earlier and earlier in the year.

"Myrocia!" Talathain called. At his voice Ethine gave a little yelp and buried her face in her brothers loose shirt. He laughed his rich laugh. When he was not near the queen Roiben was a comfortable presence, humorous without being too foolish, the polar opposite of the man who stared dreamily at the Queen for hours on end. If that was love, sacrificing your dignity and life for a meeting of lips, I had no wish for it.

"Yes?" I called back, not wanting to get up.

"The Queen has a duty for us."

"Us?" I echoed stupidly. "Surely not I included." I sat up and looked at him. Ethine peeked up from her brothers arm as well.

"You are, strangely enough. We are to escort a lady of the Queens—don't ask me who, Myrocia I don't know," he said as I opened my mouth to ask. "Along with the Lady Dulcamara and another knight."

"Would it be me?" Roiben sat up stiffly, accidentally dumping his sister on the ground where her head hit the dirt. "That could not be my quest, could it? Escort the lady and then I am the Queens consort?"

"I am sorry, Roiben, but she said not the name," Talathain said apologetically. Roiben stood up.

"I wonder if she is holding up the journey for my declaration. I must do it now. I have no more reason to delay," his cheeks were pink with excitement. Ethine sat up and clung to the cuff of his trousers.

"Give this thought, Roiben," she begged. "You will never sit among us and count the clouds again. You will only see us briefly and formally. You are giving all of this up for her."

"I thought you were supportive of our union." Roibens voice was worried, it was widely known he adored his sister, and did not wish to make her unhappy.

"I am. I just wanted a chance to say goodbye before you left us," Ethine's eyes swam with tears. Roiben embraced her warmly.

"If I am to be the Queens consort, I shall make time for you as well. I am sure she will understand my plea."

Ethine sniveled in agreement. I new her well as a handmaiden, we were often together in service to the queen and we had a great liking for each other, and as she also loved my brother in return now it seems, our bond was stronger. I knew little of Roiben, and I doubted he knew my name more than in passing.

Roiben released his sister, kissed her warmly on her forehead, and ran off to the Queens tree, where she sat in the shade. Ethine still looked mournful, she buried her face in her hands.

"Empty promises." Her voice was muffled by her elegant fingers. "Once he belongs to her I know I have lost him to her."

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Roibens face was chalk white as he dragged his feet from the Queens tree near a half hour later, Ethine left in her sorrow and Talathain gone to comfort her. He saw me and stopped, sat down in the grass numbly.

"Roiben?" my voice was small as I said his name. I knew she had given him an impossible quest. After all of it, she truly didn't love him.

"She laughed, Myrocia." His voice was soft, I knelt-walked closer to hear his words. "She laughed at my declaration. She told me not to trust my heart so fully to a queen."

"And the quest?" I asked, in my eagerness forgetting his feelings. His eyes slid shut almost reflexively, he heaved a sigh.

"To make peace with the UnSeelie Court." I pulled a face of disgust.

"Peace with those bloodthirsty savages? But Roiben, however awful that may be, it is by no means impos—!" He lay a long finger on my lips.

"I am to make peace," he said heavily, "by traveling to the Uneseelie court and being the Night Queens knight. I am, essentially, to be enslaved to the awful court. You are right, Myrocia, it is not impossible, but it is worse. She never loved me and has no account for my feelings."

"Oh, Roiben," I said softly. He laughed hollowly.

"She never loved me."

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** The Unseelie knight came scarcely the next day. Accompanied by a hob with far too many teeth and riding on a fearsome Kelpie, its nostrils flaring and its eyes an inky black. As he dismounted, Facing Roiben with a mix of amusement and pity, he gave a shallow bow.

"I am Nephamael, sent from the Night court to be knighted into yours." His voice was barely a shade off of disgusted as he said it, looking around at the lovely faces of my court. He looked Roiben up and down, and smiled.

"You are a handsome one. Be careful not to fall in love with the Unseelie Queen as well, for that is an even farther way to fall." Roiben did not react to this knowledge of the terms of his servitude.

"Never would I give my love to such a heartless individual," Roiben said, mounting Nephamaels horse in his place. Whether he spoke of Silarial or Nicnevin I did not know. I was looking at the Queens face throughout this exchange, and only an amused smile played on her face. I had lost my faith in her boundless mercy and kindness. I gave Roiben a curtsy and tried to convey my best wishes through our eyes. Ethine was weeping so hard she could not bid him goodbye, and Roibens eyes darkened. She was still loyal to the Seelie Queen, who stroked her hair and murmured comforting words, her hard eyes on Roiben the entire time.

As Nephamael strode towards the Queen, the stench of iron burning the air with him, all of the handmaidens curtsied and murmured a welcome.

"Greetings, my lady," Naephamael said, bow just a bit too shallow.

"Welcome to my court, Nephamael. You shall not be my guard, as I believe was the terms of your service at the Night court, as I already have Dulcamara and Talathain for that purpose." Nephamaels eyes lingered on Dulcamara, who smiled charmingly. "You are, in simple words, the man of all work."

"I understand, my lady." Nephamael smiled. Silarial smiled back, but it did not reach her eyes.

"Meet my handmaidens. Ethine," Ethine was still weeping too hard to notice her name. "The sister of your replacement. Myrocia," I curtsied. I hated the feeling of his eyes sweeping my body, and the wolfish smile he gave me. She named her other maidens who said charming words of greeting, and his eyes moved from them to rest back on me. I shivered, decidedly hating the new night of the Bright Court.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm here for yet another chapter! I tell myself that you guys would have left more reviews if the deletion had never come about, but I think I might have to admit that I don't have that many readers. SO. Until the time that I get 5 reveiws, I 'm going to decline to write another chapter. **

**If you're wondering how to correctly pronounce Myrocia (because I'm kind of meticulous like that) here it is: My-Row-sea-ah**

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"I hate that man Nephamael," Ethine whispered to me as we relaxed around the napping lady, not needed as she slept. Ethines gray eyes were always sad, and tears pooled in them occasionally and, when she thought no one was looking, she sobbed quietly into her hands. No one called her on her sadness. Everyone knew that because her brother had been sent to the Unseelie court, he was as good as dead now. She was grieving for a brother she had lost.

"I despise him as well, Ethine."

"His eyes follow me, Myrocia. When I walk and talk to people I can feel them boring into me." Ethine whispered, her voice thin and trembling as ever. He watched her too? As much as I loathed the feeling of his stare I wanted it all to myself, the idea of an Unseelie killer in love with me had a romantic appeal. I wanted to brag about how his words were flirting and his smile was seductive, his yellow eyes following me as I turned and walked away from him.

"How awful," I whispered instead, not wanting to wake the Queen. Ethine gave a sigh and rested her head on my shoulder, breath roughening into sobs that made my stomach twist. I could hear vague words but I wasn' t sure if they were meant for me.

"Thank god for you, Myrocia," she was sobbing again and again. "Thank god for you Myrocia."

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"What a shame to let such a pretty face go to waste."

I gave a violent start at the unexpected voice, turning to see Nephamael leaning against a tree behind me. I laid a hand just below my collarbone, still breathing a little hard. The wood had been empty not a moment before, where had he come from? The surprise of his being here made me forget the words that had induced it.

"Oh, my sir, you startled me," I said politely, alarmed by the fact no one else was here.

"You shouldn't let yourself be so easily startled," he said, stepping closer and drawing a long fingernail over my cheek. "It might make you look a fool someday."

I stiffened at the too-familiar touch and took a small step back, feeling the bark of a tree with my light fingertips.

"I have the feeling I have already made myself a fool, my lord. Although the blame partly rests on you, for not warning me of your presence." I was taking a terrible liberty with those words, and I was relying on his apparent fondness of me for him not to strike back.

"That it does. But what would a lady so valuable to the Queen be doing wandering around the wood, not expecting someone to give her a start?" Nephamaels smile was half mocking and half hungry.

"My lady sent me out to look for any fey living at the edge of the courts still here, not prepared for the move," I said, pleased by my solid response. "And I might ask the same of you, my lord." Once again I was being far too rash, completely reliant on his mercy, and his interest in me. I was walking on cobwebs the seconds between the words left my mouth and when he spoke in return.

"No, you couldn't." My spiderwebs broke and I was falling. I had said the wrong thing. "First of all I am no lady." He grinned and relief filled my heart. "On the second count I am of no value to the Queen. And on the last . . ." he stepped closer to me, we were barely inches away, and I was backed by a tree. I was sure he would hear my heart beating too fast, and he would laugh and accuse me of expecting something that was not coming. "I was expecting to start someone. You."

And his lips were on mine, a harsh pressure, the iron circlet grazing my ear and causing me to stagger away and cry out.

"Have you no sense of propriety, sir?" I asked, but I had a ludicrous, floating feeling I could not banish. I had clapped a hand over my ear where it still stung. "I doubt you even know my name!"

He laughed and the floating feeling was gone, replaced by fear and a drained feeling that was only awful.

"I do. I find I can scarce forget the sound of it." His eyes found mine, and I found I could not break away, and any traces of enthusiasm on my part over romance was gone, and I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. "Myrocia."

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** Five reviews! FIVE!**

**Keep reading, **

**-Ash  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Another chapter! And only three reviews! But Harey has convinced me to just keep writing! And I am positively wriggling in delight because I know how this will end and YOU don't! And it is a delicious ending, truly! Keep on reading!**

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"I sense some negativity coming from you, Myrocia," the Seelie queens voice was calm as she braided a clump of her lovely copper hair, looking at ease. Despite her light tone, all of her other ladies visibly froze and turned an ear to the Queen. My legible bitterness toward her had inspired much musing on when the Queen would call me on it. I kept my eyes trained on the embroidery I was stitching and took my time in answering.

"I have not noted a change in my feelings toward you, my lady." I said, just as light as she. My fingers betrayed my anxiety, trembling as I pulled a stitch through the fabric.

"And how is that, pray tell?" I raised my eyes to her green ones, trying to asses the unreadable depths of the warm color.

"I have always looked to you with awe and admiration, my lady. And who could not? Your mercy and goodness is rare, as most rulers cannot keep that same innocence with such power," the half-lies slipped from my tongue easily. As no faerie could speak an untruth, the lady registered a slight relief. I _had _always thought her awe-inspiring and worthy of admiration, until recently.

"Well, then, your manners must just be awful, then," the lady resumed her contemplation of a contract, as most of the ladies gasped and the more venomous of them laughed softly. Ethine's light grip on my arm tightened. The lady's distaste over me was a horrible thing to have, and I was distressed.

"How would you suggest I remedy that?" I managed to keep my bitter feelings out of my voice.

"I'm sending you away."

No gasps nor laughter greeted this proclamation, only a shocked silence. Ethine's grip on my arm slackened slightly in her surprise, and anger ripped through my veins.

"Away?" I asked, and now I couldn't keep my rage out of my voice. Exiled! To my horror, the Queen raised her lovely head and laughed her delicate, beautiful laugh.

"Oh, you silly, drastic thing!" she said, laying her elegant fingers over her smiling mouth as if embarrassed by her laughter, when I knew she was gleaning joy from the horror on my face. "Not to exile! I'm sending you to be a companion to my knight Nephamael, as he seems to be quite taken with you."

"Not permanently, I hope," I said, not caring for appearances or how foolish the queen now thought me, with all the color drained out of my face and just barely keeping swears off of my lips and a slap across her cheek. I had avoided Nephamael, never going anywhere alone, staying near the queen as much as I could however much I loathed her, I was terrified of him.

"No. Only for the journey. Why? Are you not as fond of him as he is of you?"

"Nephamael is a fine man and no doubt a loyal knight," I said, bending back over my stitching, evading her question and trying to ignore my panicking heart and Ethines deathlike grip on my arm.

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"Are you excited to leave the Queens court?" Nephamael asked politely as I offered him a cake, which he declined. The Queen was only a few feet away so I felt safe, but the sight of him still filled me with unease. The ghost of his harsh lips on mine made it difficult to speak.

"Only a sort of anxiety to get it done," I reply coolly. He gives me a wolfish grin that fills me with unease.

"As we are leaving within the hour you are in no danger of being made to wait."

"Yes," I say in that cool voice that is not mine. "And in the interest of that, I must go and bid goodbye to the Queen and finish gathering my things." I stand and give a shallow curtsy, which he repays with his yellow eyes rolling.

I stand, and at once the familiar unease that I can no longer see what he is doing fills me. I ignore it and step into the airy cottage where the Queen and her maidens keep their possessions. A half-open canvas bag displays what I am taking with me, a handful of practical gowns, some things to pin up my hair, some rosewater so I do not smell foul, and a small packet of sweet berries Ethine picked for me. She has been marginally more cheerful of late, her step has grown lighter and her recently her eyes have stopped becoming so red-rimmed and puffy as she cries less and less. I am happy for her, but in her leaving of sorrow she seems to have forgotten others can have ailments as well, and whenever I complain she scorns me or laughs her lovely laugh as though distress is a legend.

It has become quite irritating. This message Nephamael is sent to give to the Queens sister is the task Talathain and I were set, only there will be no lady to escort, I suspect she told us that so Roiben wouldn't catch on to the Lady sending him away. Ethine is upset by her source of courtship and of comfort both leaving, but she is friendly with the other maids and in the week we are gone I don't suspect she will suffer lack of company. Talathain appears in the doorway to the ladies wardrobes, and I give a tight little smile as he says what I expect to hear.

"Sister, we are leaving," his cordial tone suggests he is not alone. I give a little nod and take hold of my bag, drifting towards the doorway. I checked my appearance in the mirror by the door, slightly put out by the same features that greeted me each time I looked in the mirror. My violently red hair stood out like a shock against my pale skin, set with two green eyes. I had the same coloring as my lady, but none of her carriage and elegance. I suppose I could be pretty, but what Nephamael saw great enough to brood on I didn't see. I supposed I could glamour myself to be lovely, but all glamour was was illusion, and I didn't want to be magics doll, perfect in every way.

I stepped out of the door and wasn't surprised to see the entire party ready to leave. I was slightly unnerved to be riding with the lady Dulcamara and Nephamael with only my brother, but I shoved the feelings aside and gave an apologetic smile.

"Did I keep you waiting?" I asked sweetly, fastening my bag to the horse that was carrying them.

"Yes," Dulcamara said icily, smiling a thin smile. My brother cleared his throat behind me and I turned to face him.

"I'm-staying-here-with-Ethine," he said, rushing. He looked at me pleadingly, and I could tell he didn't want to leave her alone where some other fey man could woo her. I swallowed my anger, sadness and panic and gave a tiny nod.

"Then it's a smaller party, then," I kissed my brothers cheeks and couldn't force a smile onto my face. Who could I look to for comfort now? When Nephamael pulled another stunt like the other day in the woods, who could I turn to? No doubt Dulcamara would laugh and clap her little hands to see me distressed.

"Let's go then," Nephamael said, and I could tell from the triumph on his face it was he who put the idea in my brothers head to stay. I took a deep breath and smiled engagingly to Nephamael, who returned in kind, and began to walk.

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**Firelight glinted off of the metal buckles on suitcases, bags, and the saddlebags of the horse.

Dulcamaras gentle even breathing accompanied the cracks and pops of the fire, and Nephamael turned the page of a book as I turned my back to the fire on my sleeping pallet, so far from the comfort of the courts. The rancid smell of iron and oil tinged the air and the foreign sounds of the humans fearsome vehicles whizzing by on the nearby roads. We were in a thin strip of forest sandwiched between two of those roads, and mostly it was quiet but for the few cars that occasionally came by.

I stood, aching to get away from the oil but only getting closer. Others more adapted to the smell might be just be annoyed, but I was dizzy and nauseated, and I didn't want to lie back down on my pallet for fear of falling into the fire.

"Ah," I said, weakly, and dimly registered Nephamael looking up at me slumped against a tree, and leaves crunching as he came over to help me, gently picking me up and lying me back down on my pallet. Consciousness came rushing back, and along with it embarrassment came in.

"Thank you," I said, completely conscious of his hands sliding out from under me, my cheeks pinking. Dulcamara's breath lost its sleepy rhythm and her eyes didn't look quite closed, and I could tell she was listening in.

"Any time. It won't do for you to feel ill if you are to be my company," Nephamael said, sitting next to my pallet like he was going to stay. "Would you mind accompanying me now?"

"I don't know, I don't feel perfectly well . . ." I said, weakly, closing my eyes.

"I always love to hear the sound of your voice," Nephamael said softly, and at the word love I gave a violent start.

"If you wish to hear my sleepy ramblings, by all means, stay," I said softly, timidly.

"On second thought, maybe I like the absence of your voice better." I had no time to think up a haughty reply to that unendingly rude comment, because once more there was a harsh pressure on my lips, and differently, this time, it wasn't entirely unpleasant, and I didn't even hear Dulcamamra scandalized gasp as she dropped the pretense of even being asleep, or the fact that I was lying the woods, nauseated with oil and pollution and none of the earthy smells I was used to, only the fact that Nephamael was kissing me and I liked it more than I should admit.


	6. Chapter 6

Dulcamara tittered behind her perfect fingers.

"I believe we'll need a scout to go around the bend," she said, gesturing to the far off curve in the road. "To see if there is water. I shall meet you there when you arrive." She jumps lightly on to the horse and spurs it ahead, and within seconds she's gone from sight, a trip that will surely take us ten minutes. Nephamael watches her go around the curve, and when she is lost from sight, he grabs my hand and pulls me to the side of the road. With a little giggle I duck there after him, and I don't react at all as he kisses me, hard.

He doesn't seem to know the meaning of lightness, to hint at an attraction to someone, not force unwanted kisses on them, but in truth, would I have accepted the hints? No, I would not.

It's been like this for two days. New human highways have forced us off the beaten path, Dulcamara's knowledge of the detours as well as the main road the only thing keeping us on track. She takes every opportunity to ride up ahead, or go for water individually or send us there while she rests, her reasons to leave us alone were innumerable, but she had one motive; if either of us felt our romance was her making, we might be indebted to her.

My feelings for Nephamael were mixed and many, often I cornered by possessiveness, he asked me nearly every hour 'was I still his?' Other times I was terribly in love with him, when he told a funny joke that had even Dulcamara laughing I felt warm to have such a funny companion. And least of all I felt panicked, like I was drowning in a sea of his love, and I couldn't get out, couldn't even scream for help.

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The Queen of the night court was possibly even more lovely than the Bright Lady herself. Her claret hair was in one thick braid, hanging over her left shoulder. Her large blue eyes took in everything at once, so unlike her sisters, who seemed to focus on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

My heart gave a lurch as I saw who stood next to her. Roiben's gray eyes were vacant of feeling, a fine sword at his hip, and he looked tense, like a dog preparing to fight.

"Nephamael, here you are again. What a lovely surprise," the lady said, her voice as clear and sweet as sugared water. Roiben didn't move at the sound of his enemy's name, I doubted he felt at all. I wanted to run up to him and embrace him, kiss his cheeks and assure him everything would be alright.

"And who is this with you?"

"Myrocia," Nephamael said, and at my name Roibens head swung over to us. He shut his eyes in that reflexive way he had when he was telling me of his sentence, what seemed an eternity ago. I'm sure he'd glimpsed Nephamael's arm around my waist, holding me close to him, and how I didn't look uneasy or not willing, and he couldn't take my betrayal. This wasn't missed by the Unseelie Queen, who looked back and forth between the two of us delightedly.

"Do you know this girl, Roiben?" she asked curiously, for the first time her eyes traveling to Nephamaels closeness to me.

"I knew her once," he said, and his voice was as blank as his eyes. The way he said _once _gave me the terrible feeling of double crossing. I was dead to him now. I wonder how many times he had dreamed of Talathain, Ethine and I coming to rescue him, with a contract from the Seelie Queen destroying the peace between courts. I wonder how many ways I'd crushed his heart by appearing here, in love with his enemy.

"How lovely," the Queen said, abandoning the subject as it lost her interest. "Come, Nephamael, we shall go to my private rooms to discuss your message." her eyes flicked to Roiben. "You may go to your room and sleep, if you wish, or you may stay here."

She swept away, Nephamael left after without a backward glance at me, they were trailed by a small slump of guards.

I took one step towards Roiben, paused. This was not the Roiben I knew, this Roiben was cold and in his eyes I'd hurt him the worst way he could be hurt. He watched me with something like a plea, and I abandoned my reservations and flung my arms around him, kissing his cheeks and lying my head against his shoulder, whispering,

"Roiben, I'm so sorry, I didn't—the Queen, she sent—."

He shushed me with soft noises like ea mother would use to comfort a child, and I saw a deep, deep, happiness in his eyes. And I felt simply . . . magical to be the one to bring that relief to him.

"Perhaps we should go to my room to talk, Myrocia," he said, softly, pushing me gently away.

"Why?" I asked, but then turned and saw. The sounds of the revel had died down to about half, but still it was a marginal change. Fey were whispering and pointing to the impassive knight and the woman who kissed him, and Roiben looked grim.

"Damn, they know now. . . ."

"Know what?" I asked. Roiben was so hard, so worn down, he knew everything about the court my people, and his, I reminded myself, hated.

"That you love me," he said tersely, but I suppose he saw my surprise and laughed. It was an eerie, haunted sound. "Like a brother, you fool. I've spent so long here I've forgotten there can be a true sort of love . . . Come."

And he pulled me through the whispering crowd.


	7. Chapter 7

**Harey, thank you for letting me laugh at you for laughing at me and being wrong. I feel much better now. And you may be clueless as to what that means, but I do, and its a load off of my shoulders. **

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I followed Roiben through the network of hallways, not at all wondering why they called it the Palace of Termites. Mostly the walls were crude dirt, held still lacy roots, and sometimes dusty clumps fell to the ground and broke open, once to my horror revealing a worm. Roibens steps were sure and weary, and every few moments he glanced back at me, like he was afraid I'd disperse like a cloud.

We stopped at a small door, almost like an afterthought to all the fine onyx and polished ebony doors with the gold and silver handles. He opened it and gestured me in, I ducked my head at the slight door and looked around. It was a simple room, with a small bed held up by a splintered, coarse frame. A bookshelf that reached the shallow ceiling held a few books, violently colored spines worn with use. A small table in th corner held up a small dagger which Roiben quickly picked up and slipped up his sleeve, and I feigned oblivion. The sword at his waist was slim and fine, and as he unbuckled the belt and hung it up on a rusted hook, I heard him give a sigh.

"You're not suffering for want of a fine weapon," I said skittishly, feeling small next to his brooding, imposing figure. He gave a laugh, that awful empty sound.

"Yes, but I am suffering for want of everything else." He pivoted so he was facing me and grabbed my shoulders. "Is Ethine all right? Talathain? Have they been punished?"

"They are both fine," I said confusedly. "And they have done nothing to anger the Queen since you have left . . ." I stopped mid-sentence as a sort of cold indifference entered his silver eyes. He had hoped for me to tell him that they had begged and pleaded with the Queen to have him sent back, and that she had reprimanded them. He craved the feeling of being wanted. I felt repulsed by him. This new, frightening Roiben was selfish, although it seemed that he had had no one to care for these long years. Halfway between angry and horrified I hugged him tightly once more.

"Ethine wept for weeks after you left, Roiben. Talathain has never looked the Queen in the eye. I was sent here with _Nephamael,_" I spat out his name like it left a bad taste in my mouth. "Because I've been cold to the Queen and refused to listen to her. Give them time to grieve Roiben, then they'll fight back."

Roibens tensed muscles relaxed as I told him how much everyone loved him, and it looked foreign on him. I wondered if he could ever let his guard down in this palace of spiders.

"Myrocia, thank you. I have missed you as well. I doubt we will be able to speak again, so let me say something now," he pushed me back, and his gray eyes searched my green ones. "Tell . . . tell Ethine I love her, and to hold strong for her brother. Without her I never would make it. I think of her every night. Tell her that, Myrocia." I nodded under his ferocity. "And Talthain, tell him it is awful to be without him, I miss him so. And Myrocia, hear me. The lady Dulcamara, she—,"

The door burst open and there was Nephamael, bringing the stench of iron into Roibens small room. His black eyes grew suspicious as he assessed Roiben holding both of my hands, then they lost the angry quality. Roibens fingers tightened around mine and I squeezed them reassuringly.

"Come, Myrocia, the Queen has prepared rooms for us both," he said coolly, extending his arm. I nodded and kissed Roibens cheeks, letting my eyes convey sympathy as I left the room and started into the hallways with Nephamael.

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**Sorry for the short Chappie! I've got SO many things going on, plus a father breathing down my neck. It's stifling my creativity, and I've taken to writing under the cover of the night!**

**I love you all!**

**-Ash**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm writing this chappie in a fit of inspiration! Once you read it, you figure well, it had to happen sometime. I mean, he _is _Nephamael. Not everybody gets to be a Roiben. WHY ARE YOU SO SELFISH???? Sorry. It's Three in the morning, the only time I get unobstructed access to the computer. :P**

**-X-**

I drifted behind Nephamael.

I was nothing but a shadow. Unable to speak or want, I ignored Roiben, and when I could, I gave him a look that said, _This is for my life. _Only I could not tell him this was my love. It was half between awful and lovely, the way I lived for this pathetic trailing, for a smile aimed just for me, or for moments sitting behind his chair, absorbed in the way the thorns plunged into deep already-made cuts, making them bleed once more. I don't think, half the time, he knew I was there, or if he did he had no time for me, unlike before when he only had time for me. I didn't let that bother me. He loved me. I knew it.

I leaned my head on the stone-and-earth wall that separated th Queens retiring rooms and the main part of the hill, where Roiben no doubt stood, just on the other side of the door, waiting. I let the thought go. If I thought about him, I'd feel pity. And I didn't want pity.

"And what of the girl, Myrocia?" The Night Queen lifted her goblet of wine to her perfect lips and set it down on the hands of a trembling hob. I looked up at Nephamael, he hadn't so much as twitched. I gave alittle sigh and rested my head on my knees. It was an ignoring day. There seemed to be more and more of those recently. The leather backing of my loves chair bulged as he leaned back, at ease.

"What of her?" I was mildly surprised by this reply, but after all, this was Nephamael, who knew not the meaning of subtlety, and was hard, always hard.

"You seem to have an affection for her."

I tuned my entire mind into the conversation. Some might call it eavesdropping, hiding behind his large chair and listening in, but all I craved was to be near him, I couldn't care what he was saying, I only wanted the smooth texture of his voice in the air. I was prepared to be rooted out and told to leave, for Nephamael to turn around in the stretching silence and order me, none to gently but with love in his eyes, to go.

What I was not prepared for was the barking laughter that followed.

"My lady, you must see she is nothing but a whore!"

I pressed my hands to my mouth, stifling my shocked cry. My green eyes were wide as saucers as I looked up to the fine head of my love. _My love_. The word echoed around in my head like I was standing in a horrible canyon. Even the Queen had frozen.

"Indeed?" her voice seemed no more than politely interested, but her expression betrayed her hunger.

"Yes. It is a very entertaining story, if you would care to listen."

"I suppose."

"When I first arrived at the Seelie court, I was at a loss. I had been used to being admired and loved . . . especially by women. As it was, many of the girls at the Ladys court were lovely, and they caught my eye. Myrocia is one of the many I took a liking to, including your new knights sister. She was especially . . . willing. She was the one Silarial saw me chasing, and due to her belief you can only like one at a time, she sent her. She was naught even my favorite."

Tears were flowing openly down my pale cheeks, and only my slim fingers covering my mouth kept me from screaming curse and hitting him, and only common sense kept me from trying to hurt him.

"How intriguing," the Queen said, sounding sedated, her hunger gone.

"Indeed. She's nothing but one of many, and you should see how she launches herself at me. I've quite tired of her."

"Let us go, Nephamael, fine food awaits," came the Queens lovely voice, and the door opened and closed, Nephamael stepping through swiftly, and I could see the quick glance he shot towards me, a look of triumph.

By now all my tears have drained and left pure fury in their place.

**-X-**

_If that was love, sacrificing your dignity and life for a meeting of lips, I had no wish for it. _

If only I had held true, and not given it all up for this awful man, this would not be happening. If Roiben had not fallen so hopelessly in love with the Queen, his life would be peaceful and light, he would sit with Ethine, Talathain and I, braiding flowers in his sisters hair. I would not be so hopelessly angry. I ran out of the room, angry, crying and out for blood.

A green-skinned pixie ran lightly by, I grabbed her shoulder. She turned, fear showing clearly on her face. Why did she seem familiar? Oh, yes. I had seen her here earlier, Roiben had kissed her, and it had softened my heart, petrified by Nephamael.

"You're the pixie, yes, the one who kissed Roiben?"

Panic was etched on her face, and I looked her in the eyes.

"He said this would happen, she said they'd hurt me . . . let go!" she demanded, yanking away with each of the last two words. I nodded.

"I'm a friend of Roibens . . . just do this for me, alright?" She paused in her bid for freedom and studied my face. "Don't hurt him. If this is some sort of game to you, don't do it. It's not worth it. Just don't hurt him."

She looked at me, confused, but I had already released her and was walking for my rooms, plans formulating in my head as easily as if they'd always been there. And perhaps they had, just waiting for me to realize I hated him so much.

**-X-**

**I just finished watching Pans Labyrinth, which, without fail, made me cry and filled me with inspiration. I have veered from my aforementioned plans, and I LOVE my new ending! Although I'm sniveling just thinking about it. YOU WILL CRY. YOU WILL. **

**Excellent. Snivellus, **

**-Ash**


	9. Chapter 9

**The last and final chapter. If you haven't reviewed yet—sadness. This chapter is fairly long, and I'm sorry Harey, it's over. I'm veering a bit from the storyline here, but I need the artistic license to make it work. Anyways, thanks for sticking with it if you did, I'm glad. **

**-Ash**

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How can I live like this?

I sat, knees held close to my chest, up on my fluffy, luxurious bed. The room was fine in what it had, but sparsely furnished and bare, and I longed for the Seelie court, with its unending hospitality and fluffy grass so soft Ethine and I often slept under the stars, whispering and laughing. Even with its false and manipulative Queen, I wanted to go back; there was no perfect Shangri Laa, but the Seelie court was where they at least put up the appearance of goodness. Sometimes glamour is all there is.

I would kill him tonight, if I had my way. I could kill the Night Lady as well, and maybe Roiben could get away. It was a hope behind hope that I could survive, but it still burned, painfully optimistic. Keep your expectations low, I told myself. You die tonight.

**-X-**

My heels clicked on the obsidian floor, my hands trembling as I held tight to the small leather bag. Iron burned through the seams of the thick cloth, and as terror tried to bring me down I gave an involuntary shake, like a silent sob. But if I admitted that I was crying, if I let myself process the tears running down my face, I would fade back into the girl who drifted behind Nephamael, and I could not do that.

After I wiped my hands across my cheeks—to make myself feel better, nothing more—I pushed open the door that led into the hollow hill. Faeries milled about as usual; but there was no dancing, no singing, some looked troubled but most simply delighted. The harsh crack of a whip sounded through the air, drawing most of the hungry eyes of the Unseelie court. I raised my attention to the direction it had came from and faltered.

Nephamael sat on the throne.

He lounged, completely at ease, cat-yellow eyes watching intently as Roibens back was ripped open by a whip, tipped in metal that was clearly iron from the fey blood that sizzled off the metal. Rivulets of the crimson stuff dribble down his back, and my stomach twisted. Gasping, I ran through the crowd, and was jolted into the reality that I had never been through the crowd without Nicnevin, or even Nephamael.

"You're that Seelie bird, aren't you?" an arm grabbed my wrist as I froze, and I turned to the most ugly face I'd ever seen. The features were reptilian but gray, like a lizard robbed of all of its color. Boils erupted all over his face, some of them oozing. He grinned grotesquely at me as I tried to wrench my hand out of its grip, but it was sturdy and I couldn't worm out of it.

"The Bright courtiers . . . they are so lovely," he said, leaning in close. I stumbled back, and he stepped forward so his grip on my arm slackened, and I tumbled to the ground. The skirts of my gown fluttered to above my knees, I shoved it down to my ankles quickly, my cheeks burning. But he saw and his eyes lighted, forked tongue flickering between where his lips would have been. I knew what would happen next, and I did not want it.

Someone behind me grabbed my waist and hauled me into standing, I was beginning to turn to thank them when their grip did not lessen.

"Pardon me," I said, fear spiking through my veins. "I need to go, now."

A boy with grasshopper legs and a bandage across one of his eyes watched me intently, his head cocked to one side like a bird. I struggled against the arms that held me, and he gave soft chirp, shaking his head. I twisted my neck to see who was keeping me still and paled.

Dulcamara smiled cruelly down at me, her lovely face contorted.

"Dulcamara," I gasped, my mind skipping back to Roibens room and what he tried to say about her. "Lady, please let me go." Her smile deepened.

"I'm afraid I'm a turncoat," she said smoothly. "A regular traitor. Now that Nephamael is king, he wonders if there is any use to you any longer. I am ordered to dispose of useless material."

The fear that pulsed through my veins was dulled slightly by the revelation—Nephamael was king. He had no Queen to answer to if one of her handmaidens was killed. Dulcamara smiled her too-lovely smile and reached for her sword. I took that moment to dash away, past the grasshopper boy, who Dulcamaras blade met instead of me. He cried out and dropped to the ground dead. I sent a silent prayer he wouldn't haunt me in the afterlife. I cut though the crowds, and one unforgivable fey grazed my arm with a knife, laughing at the blood it drew. He reminded me so much of Nephamael it was all I could do not to retch.

I finally found my way to the dais. Nephamael was speaking to Roiben, stroking his cheek, Roibens face was hating, impassive. The seamstress, Skillywidden, waddled about in her mangled garb, and I wondered what she was doing here. No time to think. Before I got close enough to be noticed, I slid the iron cap over my tooth and went over it with a heavy, thick glamour, so intense it was tangible.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the seamstress flicker into being as the pixie who loved Roiben, and my eyes widened as I saw the iron bits she cupped in her hand. It was no where near enough to kill him—they were small, and badly shaped, they would disintegrate almost immediately—iron took a toll on fey flesh as well, all but the finest grades of the metal burned like paper on fire when it touched faerie skin.

"Nephamael," I said softly, making my voice lovely with some glamour. I hated the stuff, but it was needed. His head swiveled over to me, and his eyes did not soften, no—they hardened. I faltered, but then he opened his arms to me, and I slid onto his lap, thorns cutting me lightly. The pain was nothing compared to the exhilaration that I was feeling. He died tonight. And it was all going to plan. I tipped my head on his chest, murmuring,

"I'm so glad you're king, now."

"As am I, pet." His voice was as hard as his eyes, and he studied me as intently as a bird would a worm.

"Is something amiss, sire?" I asked sweetly, he shook his head and some of the alertness died from his eyes. Though none of the calculation. He was probably wondering how he could kill me, right now. He had sent Dulcaamara to kill me, and was no doubt displeased the deed had not been done. His hands ran through my hair and I shuddered, not out of desire as he no doubt thought, but of anxiety and fear.

"I'm having Roiben kill himself. It will be quite entertaining, really. You should watch," he said. I gave him a queasy look, not entirely fake. It was important I didn't seem too venomous or too bloodthirsty, for then he'd think back to the days but a kiss scandalized me and wonder what had happened. Nephamael was no simpleton, and my plan was not foolproof, it was quite possible he would kill me before I had the pleasure to do him in.

"I don't know . . . may I order him to do something?" Nephamaels eyes lighted, something like hope that maybe I was growing into an Unseelie woman, and he nodded.

"But you must say it in my name, or else he is free to do whatever he wants. One unnamed order and he doesn't have to obey."

"Oh, yes, sire," I gave him a greedy grin which he returned in kind, and I turned to Roiben. My voice was clear and I hated myself for it. "Roiben, in the name of Nephamael, cut your arm."

Surprise bloomed in his eyes, but he was quick to cover it, soon it was only another mold of hate. He lifted his sword and cut his arm, he didn't even cry out,the blood dripping from his skin was the only give away that he was hurt. I heard the pixie masquerading as Skillywidden give a little cry of shock, and Nephamael glanced at her before looking back at me.

"Excellent." The curious, unfeeling quality had never fled from his eyes, nor did it when he pulled me in for a kiss. His fingers threaded through my hair and pulled the strands, I remembered my thought that he knew not the meaning of subtlety, of softness. His tongue snaked into my mouth and my heart sped up, I dropped the glamour over the tooth and iron seared my mouth, it came off easily with coaxing from my tongue, I prodded it towards his mouth.

He pulled away in disgust, and the iron bit clattered to the floor.

It was all over.

I had failed.

His lovely yellow eyes dawned realization and a similar hate for himself, he gave a yell of "WHORE!" and pushed me violently off of my perch on his seat.

Instead of falling harmlessly to the dais below the seat so Nephamael could stab me, I tumbled down, down, the countless feet to the packed dirt floor behind the dais, a bone cracked and I nearly stopped breathing. Nephamael's handsome, deep laughter resounded across the hall and soon everyone was giggling.

It was over. I had failed. I kept my eye shut as tears prickled behind my eyes. All of that planning, all of my hopes, my revenge, gone in that one pitch over the side of the dais. The world was fading quickly into black, a film going over my eyes. No—if I slept, I would die. I couldn't go up there to at least defy Nephamael one last time, so I wouldn't just be another event of the night, I—

The pixie ran full-speed at me from the other side of the dais, where everyone was. Tears ran down her lovely green face, and she clutched a silver knife. Blood was spattered on her hands and on her cheeks, where she had tried to wipe away the tears.

"You . . . you told me not to betray Roiben . . .." her voice trembled with anger and some deep sadness I could not name. "And yet you go up there and kiss that mother fucker like nothing else, and tell Roiben to cut himself, as well. He hit an artery, you idiot!" she sobbed, dropping to her knees next to my motionless body, hair spread around my head like a halo, a last appeal to God. "It was prolonged, faery skin must be tougher, but he bled to death because of you! You never cared! Now—he's—dead!" she punctuated every on of her last words with a sob.

"I—I'm so sorry, pixie—," this light spiderweb of a voice was all I had. I was dying. It was over.

"Kaye." she spat.

"Kaye," I corrected weakly. "Roiben was one—of my closest friends at the Seelie court. I had—I had to kill the man who did it to him. All of it. And that required Roiben to be hurt."

"I'll kill you!" she said roughly, lifting the knife above my breast, still shaking with sobs.

"Please, kill me," I said, now I was crying as well, and the sobs gave my voice a power that resided in my last words. "Pierce my heart so at least I don't die at his hand. But Kaye," my eyes slid shut reflexively, so much like Roibens. "Do all you can to kill him. Maybe I did this, maybe he did. But all I want you to do is, please . . . kill him."

"I will," the pixie whispered and plunged the knife deep into my heart.

**--Fin-- **


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